Christine's Reverie
by Puppetm-ster
Summary: I'm not good with summaries, so R&R.
1. Chapter 1

Christine opened her eyes to the bright blue sky above. The fields were so beautiful this time of year.

She walked threw the lush green grass, running her fingers along the tall blades. She had come here often to sing to her father, this was one of his favorite places. Christine knew her father loved to hear her voice, so even after his death she had come to his favorite spot to sing to him.

She walked along the rough pathway leading to the forest; she had taken this path many times before. Some of her friends thought the forest spooky and that it must be haunted, they wouldn't go near it. Christine on the other hand immensely enjoyed walking home threw the tall trees, she loved the fresh sent of pine and honeysuckle. Christine walked to the edge of the forest and stopped, because it wasn't a forest anymore. A great cathedral stood before her wide eyes. White bricks gave it a ghostly feel; it's large stained glass windows glistened in the setting sun. Colors of deep crimson and green danced across her bewildered face. _Is this real?_ She thought.

Christine reached out and touched the red wooden doors in front of her; yes they were real.

"How can this be?" She thought aloud.

Curiosity overcoming fear, she pushed her way threw. The doors opened silently to reveal a grand hall.

As Christine stepped into the vast hall, melodic music filled her ears. It sounded like a… "Violin...?"

She walked down the aisle, the music hypnotizing her, when she suddenly saw an indistinct figure. She moved closer to where it sat; the figure grew clearer with every step. The music was so familiar; she saw his dark hair and clothes, his head slowly swaying to the soft tune. How could this be?

The man stopped and turned as she approached. Christine looked into his eyes.

"Father…?"


	2. Chapter 2

The storm was relentless tonight. It had started in the early after noon, and still past min-night had not stopped. The wind tore at the trees; their branches light as feathers thrashing back and forth. Hail pounding hard upon the rooftops.

The streets where nearly empty this time of night, deserted save for the wind's lonely howl, and one lone figure at the street's corner…

Erik stood silently on the paving, his face obscured by a low hood. He walked noiselessly down the sidewalk, footsteps splashing ever so slightly in the puddles. He was not out to feed, not tonight. He just had to see _her. _Erik swept down the path, his cloak spun in the torrent wind. He had reached her house at last, all was quiet. The gate blew open with a slight whine; he stepped into the garden. The curtains were drawn; red and white lace covered the window behind which she lay. He crept to the glass, peering threw the opening. There on the bed rest an angel; so peaceful in slumber.

"Christine." He whispered lovingly.

Christine lay under the lush fabric of her comforter. Her beautiful black locks fanned out above and around her slender face.

Erik pulled open the window, the rain now just a light sprinkle.

_I can't enter like_ _this_. He thought remembering he was drenched from head to toe.

"No," He said aloud "I can't."

This was not the first time he had talked himself out of entering. In fact he had done so every night for the past month. Always finding some reason he couldn't, or wouldn't see her face to face, tonight was no different. No, he wouldn't go in.

Erik turned and began to walk away, when he heard something. It sounded like…Music? Yes, a violin!

"But who could be…?" He said to himself. Erik moved back to the window. But, he was no longer seeing Christine's room. Everything inside had transformed into a great cathedral. Rows of pews lined the stained glass covered walls. This was very strange indeed.

He leaped inside, warm air washed over his dripping face. He looked down at the floor soaked in water droplets falling from his clothes. His eyes scanned the room for the violinist playing this extraordinary melody. Erik's eyes found a small stage, from which the address was given. There to his surprise, sat a man. He followed the soft notes up the marble steps where the man sat playing. The stranger did not seem to notice him, and if he did he paid him no mind. Erik stepped closer, and opened his mouth to speak, when he heard small footsteps behind him. He turned to see a pale face and long black locks coming towards him.

"Christine?" He said.

She did not hear him, only continued walking, entranced by the music.

"Christine." He said louder. This time the music stopped. He revolved to face…Nothing? Where was the man? Erik swirled around and saw Christine stood not ten paces in front of him. Her deep brown eyes widened as he stared into them. Before he had the chance, she opened her mouth and spoke.

"Father…?" Her voice echoed.

The world reeled around him, churning, twisting, faded. Erik stood at the foot of her bed. His head ached and twitched almost unbearably. He looked down at Christine's fragile form, the hunger getting the better of him. He leaned in closer…

_No! _His mind screamed. He couldn't, wouldn't, not her. Christine began to stir; Erik dashed to the window and leaped out into the night.

Christine awoke with a start, half expecting to see her father. She looked around the empty room disappointment sinking in. If she had not been visited be her father's ghost, then why was it so cold?

Her eyes found the open window.

"Who..?" She mouthed, climbing off her bed. She stepped to the window, gazing out into the silence. The raining had stopped, so why was the floor…wet?


	3. Chapter 3

The storm clouds resided. Erik lay on the wooden floor of an abandoned apartment building. He let the cold drops from the cracked roof seep into his skin.

'What happened last night?' he thought, making no attempt to wipe way the water collecting on his cheek.

'How could I have seen one place and been in another? Much less a place I have never in my life seen before; yet it seemed so familiar.'

He then thought about Christine, how perfectly beautiful she had been, lying there asleep. And to think what he almost did to her. He pounded the floor sending a hollow echo through the room. 'How could I?' He clenched his fist so tightly blood began to creep threw his fingers; to form a puddle on the floor below him.

'I can't do it, what's to stop me from trying to hurt her again?' Pulling himself off the ground he paced franticly around the room.

'I must hide myself away, far away, where I can't harm her…ever.'

Erik stopped, his heart pounding in his chest. The blood pumped so loud, he could count each beat.

He could think of nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. So he just began walking. Where ever his feet went, the rest of him would follow.

Erik had come to the front door. He stopped then; someone was on the other side. He could sense them as clearly as if they were standing directly in front of him.

But it was not a living some one, nor dead.

The door knob began turning ever so slightly until it came to a stop.

The door swung inward to divulge a dark figure.

'Erik' The shadow's voice echoed through his mind.

It only took a moment before he realized who the stranger was.

"Master." He spoke the short greeting aloud. "What brings you here?"

'I sensed you were troubled.' The voice circled inside his head.

Ha! Erik let out a crack of laughter. "Really? Why have you really come?"

'You know me well lad…' The figure paused as if not sure weather to continue. 'I have a task for you.'

"What sort of task?" Erik inquired.

'I think you will find the task and your true agenda will conspire.' The deep voice sounded.

"That does not answer my question." He said getting a bit annoyed. "What is this task?"

'Alright, alright. It involves a curtain person, a girl in fact. I need someone to keep an eye on her.'

"Why can you not do this yourself?"

'I have been up until the night before last. But something has come up, I need someone to fill my place for a while.' The shadow said watching Erik closely.

"I see…" He said.

'So you will do it then?'

"Do I have any other choice?"

'Good boy' The form sounded pleased with himself. 'Now come.'

Christine awoke shivering. The ground beneath her was cold and wet. She pushed herself up, hands slipping in the mud. She was outside; small droplets of rain fell from the tree above. Standing up, she could see she was in front of the house she shared with her good friend Meg. What was she doing out in the yard?

Christine made her way to the front door and tried the knob. It was locked. She began to panic. Ringing the door bell franticly, her hands began to shake uncontrollably.

"Meg!" She screamed hoarsely, growing more frightened. She hammered on the door until it swung inward to reveal Meg's bewildered face.

"What the- Christine!" She shrieked, pulling her inside. "What happened?"

"I-I don't know. The last thing I remember was…oh Meg it was the most wonderful dream! I saw my father, and he…" She trailed off, unwilling to tell Meg what she believed she had seen.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Meg asked.

"No I just need rest." Christine said and seeing her friends unbelieving face added, "Really, it's nothing."

"Will you tell me later?"

"There is nothing to tell, but yes I will try." She reassured her.

"Alright then, I have to run, so I will see you later…" Christine was already halfway down the hallway.

"Get some rest!" Meg yelled after her. "I will talk to you later!"

"Hmhm…" Christine managed as she closed her bedroom door.

Christine lay her head on the door and waited for the sounds of Meg leaving before stirring back to life. She scanned the room; her bed was unmade, but otherwise the room was in perfect order. She looked to the window and found it closed. Not satisfied she stepped up to it, tracing the wooden frame.

'It must have been a dream.' She thought.

She then peered at her reflection in the glass, and realized how filthy she was.

Christine walked to her dresser to fetch some clean clothes. Once she had retrieved the proper garments, she stepped into the shower without even bothering to undress.

Christine stood letting the heat of the water run over her. She turned her head in small circles allowing the water to drench her clothes, as she tried to forget her dream the past night.

His face shot through her mind, his eyes so dark. Her brow frowned in confusion as her minds eye brought his picture into sharper focus.

Those deep eyes so friendly and welcoming; She watched them dace through her memory, and smiled.

Kindness and warmth turned suddenly to terror; the beautiful serenity of the former eyes faded away to be replaced be horrible devilish ones. They gleamed maliciously at her, red and hungry.

Christine shrieked jumping backward into the shower curtains. Her eyes shot open, the water had become ice cold. She leaped out quickly, not looking. She hit something hard and fell to the floor.

Christine opened her eyes once again. She stood to examine her head in the mirror. But it wasn't her reflection that she faced. She instead looked upon a grassy field, someone was seated init…

Christine stepped in closer to find herself set in the middle of the tall pasture, singing…

To Be Continued…


End file.
